


akhos

by gwapesoda



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Dissociation, Dysphoria, M/M, Menstruation, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ouma not Oma, POV First Person, Self-Harm, Trans Male Character, Trans Oma Kokichi, Trans Ouma, i probably won't tag other characters for simplicity's sake unless they get dialogue, idk if i'll have saihara be trans but probably not, it's just easier for me, ouma whump time, tags update as chapters do, this is just me venting whoopsies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwapesoda/pseuds/gwapesoda
Summary: Even Supreme Leaders get periods, and dysphoria, and suffer. Doesn't mean it sucks any less. But sometimes, something or someone can ease the pain.





	akhos

**Author's Note:**

> Before we get into things, I'll have you know that I'm a trans guy, so most of the content relating to that in here is based on my own experiences and those of my peers. Although I know that this won't be 100% relatable to anyone, I hope it's readable nonetheless.

I woke up before the morning announcement. it was unusual, but it had happened before. So, when I got up to use the restroom, I didn’t expect anything different. I was incorrect in my assumption. I glanced down at the floor briefly. My boxers, that had once been striped, were now stained with thick, pink blood. I recoiled in disgust, and kicked them off my ankles and across the floor.  _ God, no. I don’t want to deal with this shit right now. _

But I had to. There was nothing I could do about it. I accepted that fact as I tossed the ruined underwear in the small garbage can next to the sink.

Shuffling over to the desk next to my bed, I tried not to get blood onto the floor. I rifled through the drawers looking for a-  _ um, wait, what was I looking for? _ I blinked a couple times, and forced my eyes to focus. A pad. I remembered I had grabbed a few from the warehouse. I opened what once was a candy tin, and grabbed one of the pads from it.

_ Dammit,  _ I realized,  _ I can’t exactly put this thing in boxers. _ Sighing, I dug through the drawers again, and pulled out a pair of plain grey panties. As I pulled them up my legs, I closed my eyes.

_ Humiliating. Someone like me shouldn’t have to wear this. Disgusting. I shouldn’t even be upset about this. Liar. I need to stop trying to convince myself I’m anything but a girl. Worthless. What kind of Supreme Leader is brought to his knees by something as trivial as this? _

I felt something wet on my cheek and looked up at the ceiling. There wasn’t a leak. I was sitting on the floor, knees drawn to my much too large chest. I rocked, slowly, back and forth, trying to ground myself.

_ What am I, a child? _

Another drop escaped my eye, and I vigorously shook my head. Shakily, I stood up, and stumbled to the wardrobe. I opened the shoebox in the back corner, and pulled out a worn out binder. It was my only one, and I wore it every day. But I would have to make do with it. I slipped the garment over my head, and pulled it on.

_ It’s too loose. It’s not flat enough. I can’t go outside, they’ll know. And they’ll smell it, too. They’ll know what I am the instant I walk in there. _

I grabbed a spare pair of boxers from the floor of the closet, and stepped into them, lethargic. I didn’t have a clue how much time had passed, but I eventually wandered over to my bed, curled up under the covers, and stared at the wall.

I must have fallen asleep, because it seemed like no time passed at all between laying down, and hearing the morning announcement. Either that, or I spent quite a while standing in the closet.

_ Heh. In the closet. _

I laughed a dry, quiet laugh. It didn’t feel like my voice was coming from my mouth. It was as if there were a speaker next to me playing a girly giggle. I immediately clamped my mouth shut.

_ Shut up. _

I contemplated getting up, getting dressed, and going to breakfast, but decided against it. It’s not like they would miss me. “Good riddance,” they’d say.

_ Just die already. You’re a mistake. You’re broken. You’re flawed in every way. _

They’d never say that. But they’d think it.

I fell back into a shallow slumber.

_ You’re not a real man. You’ll never be a real man. You’re not real at all, and you never will be. You’re a fake, a liar, a fraud. Even you thinking you are anything but a girl is another strand in your web of lies. You’re lying to even yourself. _

When I awoke, I was in a cold sweat. I began to roll over, but pain shot through my abdomen, and I hissed.

_ I should have gotten Tylenol, something, anything, from the warehouse too. But there’s nothing I can do now. _

I pinched my arm in an attempt to distract myself. I shouldn’t have. Before I could even stop myself, I was digging my nails in, scratching up and down, clawing at my bare flesh. It stung, it burned, it hurt.

_ I deserve this. I deserve this. _

For a brief moment, I snapped to my senses and pulled my hand away. I crawled out from the comfort of my bed, and limped to the bathroom, each step worsening the pain in my body.

I turned on the sink, and cold water came rushing out of the faucet. I grabbed a hand towel and soaked it, before dabbing it onto my bleeding arm. There was more blood than I had thought.

I tossed the towel in the trash can, on top of but not completely covering the boxers.

_ Don’t look in the mirror. Don’t look in the mirror. Don’t look in the mirror. _

I looked in the mirror. I didn’t like it. My face was soft and round and my cheeks high and my eyes big and round like those of a doe, a female deer. My lips were pink as the packaging of anything for women. My eyebrows were thin, like the actresses on tv.

_ Oh god, they know. They already know. Everyone can tell I’m a girl. One look at me and they figure it out. They know I’m lying to them. And they play along. _

I gripped the counter, my knuckles turning white. I began to quiver. Soon I was quaking, eyes dripping into the sink. But I didn’t make a single sound.

Eventually, the shaking subsided, and I made my way back to the bed. At least, I tried, but stopped halfway and sat down on the floor.

_ It’s fine, this is fine. _

I lay on my side and curled up, drifting off into another fitful sleep.

I awoke later. How much later, I didn’t know. It didn’t really matter. I sat up.

I was overwhelmed with a feeling of fear. Like I had to run, to hide.

_ They know. They can see through even the lies I don’t want them to unravel. They might come for me next, since they know I’m so weak. So, so weak. _

I felt frozen, trapped in place. And I couldn’t breathe.

_ I can’t breathe I can’t breathe _

No matter how much I inhaled and exhaled, no matter how hard and deep my breaths were, it wasn’t enough. It felt like I was being drowned, choked, suffocated.

My breathing grew faster and faster, and my vision began to blur, spots of white invading my sight.

And then I woke up again on the floor, crumpled like laundry, facing down.

I knew I probably had to change, or shower, or something. But I couldn’t bring myself to. Even thinking about being exposed, having to look at my body, made me sick to my stomach.

So instead, I pulled a sketchbook and a pencil, that I had gotten in the monomono machine, out of one of my desk drawers, sat down on my bed, and began to draw.

I don’t know how long I was drawing for. It felt like anywhere between two and five hours, but I couldn’t be sure.

I mostly doodled. I wasn’t very good, but it kept my mind off of things. I drew birds, and trees, and bottles of soda. Although my hands trembled ever so slightly, the end product was alright.

I began to tire again, so I set my sketchbook aside, and burrowed deeper under the covers, letting the maws of a finally restful sleep swallow me up.

The sound of the doorbell stole me from my slumber.

_ Who could be bothering me this early in the morning? _

I walked over to the wardrobe, and grabbed a shirt and pants. I quickly threw them on, and picked up a scarf as well, tying it around my neck.

_ I am fine. I will be fine. I’ll just tell them I’m busy, or I don’t feel well, or something. They’ll leave. I’m not that important to anyone. _

I strode over to the door and swung it open part-way, plastering a sickeningly sweet grin to my  _ sickeningly sweet _ face.

“Well if it isn’t my beloved Saihara-chan! Bearing gifts, no less!”

Shuichi Saihara, Super High School Level Detective stood outside my door, holding a tray of food. The sunset shining in from the doors of the dormitory gave him an ethereal glow, like an angel of sorts.

“I mean, I suppose you could say that? This is from Tojo-san, it’s your dinner. You didn’t come to any meals, and she said you didn’t show up in the dining hall at all today. Is everything alright?”

_ Shit. It’s past dinner already. Great job, Kokichi. _

“Of course it is! Everyone knows a Supreme Leader is always stocked up on sustenance. In fact, I’ve already eaten! So, you can bring that back to Mom.”

Saihara nodded, and seemed as if he were about to turn and leave, when my stomach let out an obvious growl.

_ Damn it. _

“Well, it might be a good idea to add this to your stockpile. You never know what could happen.”

I hummed for a moment, feigning contemplation.

“Well, if you insist! But, just so you know, it’s only because you begged! That, and because I could never ever say no to my beloved!”

Saihara chuckled, smiling ever so slightly, and my heart did somersaults.

_ Not the time. I need to get him to leave as fast as possible. _

“Alright, Ouma-kun.”

He extended the tray to me, and I reached forward to grab it, willing with all my might for my hands not to shake. I -- more or less -- succeeded, though I almost dropped the tray when his hand ever so slightly brushed against mine during the exchange. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I tried to push it away, but only made it worse in the process.

_ Great. Now I’m blushing like a schoolgirl. Fantastic. _

A worried look crossed Saihara’s face, and I felt my stomach turn.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You look awfully warm.”

Everything seemed to be happening in slow-motion. He reached up. I held my breath. He carefully placed his hand on my forehead, as if it might break.

The tray clattered to the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to add chapters as frequently as possible, but know that updates will be incredibly sporadic.


End file.
